


every little piece of me

by elentiriel



Series: the white city [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 19:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elentiriel/pseuds/elentiriel
Summary: The last place Faramir expected to meet his future wife was at a nightclub in downtown DC. Éowyn was pretty skeptical about nightclubs in DC - after all, DC was known for its stuffiness, not its party scene, but Lothíriel was determined to find Éowyn a new man.--Scenes from Éowyn and Faramir's relationship over a few years, with Lothíriel playing the role of supporting cast.//Modern AU - DC suddenly reminded me of Minas Tirith. //





	every little piece of me

**Author's Note:**

> Note: their ages are non-canonical here; for modern purposes I presumed that they're in their mid-late 20s.

The last place Faramir expected to meet his future wife was at a nightclub in downtown DC. Boromir had come to visit for a weekend, and true to form, wanted to find some excitement while he was visiting. Excitement in the form of finding a nightclub for dancing and drinking, which wasn’t Faramir’s usual idea of fun, but it was hard to resist Boromir when he was in that mood. So after they were both dressed and looked presentable (“not shame the family,” Father would have said), Boromir pushed Faramir out the door and into a waiting cab. 

Faramir didn’t like going to clubs since it meant drinking and dancing, usually bordering on excess and loss of self-control. Father had taught him better than to ever lose self-control, although Father had occasionally looked the other way when Boromir came home hungover. 

It wasn’t as if Faramir had never stepped foot in a nightclub. He had been to a few in college with friends, as part of living the whole college experience away from his father’s ever knowing gaze. Sometimes back on campus people had recognized who he was, but in a city full of well known politicians, their offspring, and the occasional foreign minor royal, Faramir was just another young professional climbing the ranks.

After all, he was only the second son, and everyone knew about his father’s preference for Boromir. He was sure there was gossip on whether or not Father had left him anything in his will, but for the most part, Faramir tried not to think about it. Once in a while, some girls would try to talk him up, but he soon realized that he was just a pretty face and a political connection to them. 

Also, Faramir questioned Boromir’s motives for going out to a nightclub. Drinking? Sure. Dancing? Boromir never had a steady girlfriend as far as he knew, and Faramir was pretty sure he knew all about his brother’s love life, even if said brother wasn’t aware. Boromir tended to acquire a posse of women (much to Father’s recent annoyance) and then somehow always have a different woman accompany him to different events. Had Father at some point arranged a politically expedient marriage for Boromir and Boromir was playing for time? Faramir never really thought about it but up until now, and there was a bit of a desperate air. 

On the other hand, if Boromir was paying for drinks tonight… 

“How can the history of the ancient Incas be so interesting? It’s not even relevant to us!”

“Well, they were very advanced despite not having horses and-” At this point, Boromir had shook his head and walked away in search of a drink and more entertaining conversation. Faramir knew he was boring his brother on purpose, but it was payback for making him come here tonight. Besides, Faramir was still working on his first beer, wondering if he should just leave the club after finishing his beer, when he saw her.

Even in the dim light, he could see that she had long warm gold hair cascading down her back. She was wearing a white dress and facing slightly away from him, but he was intrigued by how she seemed to glow. She was swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music, but she wasn’t partnered with any other man. From his vantage point at the bar, he could see that she was talking to another woman. A dark-haired woman who looked very familiar.

Faramir slid off his seat, slipped a couple bucks across the bar, and made his way towards the two women.

\--

Éowyn, for her part, hadn’t really wanted to go out clubbing that night either. Lothíriel, her best friend and current flatmate, had somehow talked her into a girls’ night out. Éowyn was pretty skeptical about nightclubs in DC - after all, DC was known for its stuffiness, not party scene, but Lothíriel was determined. In particular, Lothíriel was insistent that Éowyn meet new guys so that Éowyn could get over her college crush. Éowyn had a crush on Aragorn for years, but he had turned her down, and she had been fairly devastated. Lothíriel was of the opinion that it was all for the better, and that Éowyn would find someone even better. Even if this “better” involved a detour to a nightclub. 

So that was how Éowyn found herself in a tight white dress, high heels, and makeup on her way to a nightclub. 

\--

“Lothíriel?! Is that you? Totally didn’t expect to see you here tonight!”

Éowyn spins around, noticing an attractive dark-haired man waving a beer bottle advance towards her and Lothíriel. When he reaches them, Lothíriel wraps him a big hug, bouncing up and down excitedly.

“Didn’t expect to see me? Ha! Faramir, _ you’re _ the last one anyone would expect to find in a nightclub at all!”

“Well, if you must know, Boromir all but dragged me out. I managed to scare him away with talk of research of the Incas.”

“The Incas?” Éowyn is thoroughly confused by the conversation, and the man who seemed to remind her vaguely of Aragorn, but more approachable and down to earth at the same time. From a certain angle, he seems to somewhat resemble Lothíriel. Is this one of Lothíriel’s brothers?

“Éowyn, this is Faramir, my cousin. Faramir, this is Éowyn, my best friend from college and current housemate.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Faramir says, extending his free hand out to Éowyn. Éowyn gives him a firm handshake. “And yes, the Incas. Nothing scares my brother away faster than boring him with historical research. It was payback for dragging me out here tonight.”

“So your older brother likes to interfere in your life? Mine mostly stays out of the way, except to tell me not to follow him.”

“Which means he’s probably doesn’t want you to know so you can’t blackmail him, right?”

“Can we not talk about older brothers right now? I have three of them, and another two by proxy including you,” says Lothíriel, somewhat irritatedly. “Less talking, more dancing!”

A few minutes later, Faramir decides he needs another drink, as Lothíriel finished off his beer. He looks at Éowyn, and says to her, “I’m getting a new drink, want one? I’ll even put it on my brother’s tab, if you like.”

Éowyn pauses, and for a moment she realizes that Faramir is looking at her intensely. She can’t tell the color of his eyes in the dark, but she can see that he’s completely sober and seems to be measuring her up against some unknown standard. 

She ends up following him to the bar, telling herself that she’s just making sure that he won’t spike her drink. He may be Lothíriel’s cousin, but he’s still an unknown factor. Deeper down, and Éowyn won’t admit this to even herself yet, there’s something about Faramir that sparks her curiosity. 

\--

Over the last several months in DC, Éowyn has met Faramir a few more times, mostly during the large group outings that Lothíriel keeps arranging. He may not be the center of the party - that’s mostly Lothíriel - but he has a certain presence and sense of wry humor that she feels drawn to. What surprises Éowyn the most about Faramir is that he actually listens to her, and his responses show that, instead of casually brushing her off, unlike most males. He always seems to be able to read in between the lines, and he encourages her to consider different perspectives. Éowyn starts to feel calmer and less anxious every time after she talks with him.

\---

Somewhere around their third meeting, Faramir was pretty sure he had developed a crush on Éowyn. Well, he knew she was special the first time they met, but it wasn’t until she had laughed at his satirical imitations of political figures that he knew he wanted to marry her, or not marry anyone at all. But after questioning Lothíriel, Faramir realizes that Éowyn is still a little fragile around the edges regarding a romantic relationship, so he doesn’t bring it up. What happens instead is that Lothíriel gets suspicious of his motives and enters Éowyn’s cell phone number into his phone before he has a chance to protest.

Éowyn also gets Faramir’s number via Lothíriel, although Lothíriel tries to cover up her not-so-subtle matchmaking by saying “in case you ever need help and I’m not here! He’s a very dependable person!” Éowyn rolls her eyes at Lothíriel, but saves Faramir’s contact information anyway.

\--

Faramir’s surprised when he gets a text out of the blue one day when Éowyn is away in Denver on a work trip. 

// Hey Faramir, are you free to talk? On the phone I mean. I’d call up Lothíriel but she’s on a date or something. //

His heart skips a beat. It doesn’t mean anything, he reminds himself, she’s only talking to you because Lothíriel isn’t around. 

// Sure. Call me whenever you want. //

They end up talking on the phone for over an hour, about everything and nothing, until Faramir has to go to sleep. He’s still on East Coast time, after all. But he dreams of snow-capped mountains, orange-red sunsets, and the wide open land of the American West, where he’s never gone before.

And so they talk on the phone every day for the rest of that week, and it happens again when she’s on another work trip in a different area of the country the following month. He’s not sure he’s quite buying her excuse that “talking on the phone is faster than texting,” but he’s not complaining. They make plans to hang out on weekends when she’s back in DC, and the days seems to pass by faster when there are weekend plans.

Their weekend hangouts end up being more than just exploring DC together - Faramir is perfectly happy to be Éowyn’s guide, but he also enjoys just spending time with someone who sees him for his personality, not just his face and family. Éowyn must know which politically prominent family he’s part of by now; she knows he’s related to Lothíriel. Or maybe it’s because Éowyn herself is related to a foreign royal house, that she doesn’t judge him by his family reputation.

Sometimes Lothíriel joins them on their outings, but more often than not, it’s just Éowyn and Faramir. 

\--

It’s a hot and sunny summer day, absolutely perfect for spending a day at the beach. They had all gotten up early and made the three-hour drive out to Rehoboth Beach, for a day of sun and sea. 

Before they all run towards the ocean, Faramir walks up to Éowyn and asks, “Hey, do you mind rubbing sunscreen on my back? There’s no one else close enough at the moment.”

Éowyn’s only taken aback for a second, before she takes the bottle of sunscreen from him. She starts rubbing his back with the sunscreen, and he’s leaning into her touch, savoring every moment. She’s fairly impersonal with it, but he doesn’t care. If this is the only way she’ll ever touch him skin to skin, he’ll take it. Even if she’s way too sexy in that bikini and he’s barely holding onto his self control.

About 150 yards away, Lothíriel is watching Faramir and Éowyn, and grins to herself. Boromir follows Lothíriel’s gaze and raises an eyebrow.

“So… how much do you want to bet on when they get together?”

“Fifty bucks, and they’ll be official in about a year I’d say.”

“A year? That’s a stupidly long time, I’m pretty sure my brother won’t wait that long.”

“Faramir may be your brother, but he also doesn’t want to scare Éowyn off. And I know Éowyn better than either of you - it’ll probably be a year before she realizes how much she needs him.”

“Fine. I hope you’re wrong. Fifty bucks it is.”

\--

Boromir comes to visit again, and this time Lothíriel plans a large group outing, inviting even Aragorn and Arwen. Faramir suspects Lothíriel has something up her sleeve, but he’s not quite sure what. 

“Oh, they text and call each other all the time when she’s away for work!” 

“Call? As in actually talking on the phone?” Boromir raises one eyebrow at Faramir while signalling Lothíriel to continue with this fascinating little nugget about his little brother's possible love interest. Faramir wants to melt into the earth - everyone except Éowyn herself knows that he has a crush on her, and everyone also knows that Éowyn has? had? a crush on Aragorn. No thanks to Lothíriel, he's pretty sure she just killed his chances with Éowyn.

Éowyn makes vague protests about the frequency of her communications with Faramir, but Lothíriel deftly snatches Éowyn’s phone out of her hand, and presents the call and text logs to Boromir and Aragorn. Both men look at it for a minute, and even Arwen leans over Aragorn to look at Éowyn's phone. Then Aragorn, Arwen, and Boromir all turn to look at Faramir, who had slid halfway down the bench and was trying to turn invisible.

Lothíriel looks over at a furiously blushing Éowyn, and says, “So, just friends?”

“We _ are _ just friends!” Éowyn protests, pointedly not looking at Faramir. Or anyone else at the table. 

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much. Friends that hang out on weekends, eat dinner, and watch Netflix together?” Lothíriel asks, trying to get either Éowyn or Faramir to admit the extent of their friendship.

Faramir seems to have found his composure again, because he manages to reply calmly, “Lothíriel, that’s only because *you* sneak out halfway through dinner to do gods knows what! It’s not as if Éowyn and I are actually dating.”

“Well, you two should be! I don’t see why not, you both clearly like each other, even if one of you is too stupid to admit it!” 

Éowyn is so embarrassed that she doesn’t look at or talk to Lothíriel or Faramir for the rest of the day, which is quite a feat. 

\---

Faramir hates that he’s leaving DC for six months to a remote place with no consistent internet or cell phone reception, but he knows his duty. He haphazardly throws all his things into two suitcases, wondering if he made the right career decision. (He knows he has, he just hates leaving his friends and most of all, Éowyn.)

Lothíriel throws him a going away party, even if he isn’t quite feeling up to it. He can't bear to dampen Lothíriel's enthusiasm and her party planning skills are superb, as always. What he's really scared of is saying goodbye to Éowyn, even if things have been awkward and tense between them in the last few weeks, after that embarrassing incident. Their once daily text conversations have dwindled to nothing, and Éowyn appears to be avoiding him at all costs. 

"We'll miss you!" Lothíriel exclaims as they all squish him in a group hug. “Who’s taking you to the airport tomorrow?”

"I am," Aragorn says," since one can't count on you or Boromir being awake that early on a Sunday." 

Éowyn is only at the party because it’s in hers and Lothíriel’s shared apartment. Faramir tries to speak to her, but she manages to avoid him. And Lothíriel hasn’t locked the two of them together in a closet yet. He lets it go for the moment and joins the rest of the group in munching on American snacks that he’ll miss. He’ll definitely miss those veggie stix from Whole Foods. 

\-- 

Éowyn doesn't know what to say to Faramir and knows that she's making it awkward by avoiding talking to him for the entire night. There’s nowhere to hide, since the party is in her apartment, and if she hid in her room, she’s pretty sure Lothíriel would drag her right back out. 

She doesn't quite know how she feels about him. They are truly just friends, right? She’s not going to miss him when he’s gone for six months, when the only way to contact him is through _ snail mail _. Liar, a little traitorous voice says in her heart. 

\--

It’s almost 2AM, and Aragorn is gently pushing a slightly tipsy Faramir out the door. Faramir’s not sure when the last time he was tipsy, but it’s not an unpleasant experience. He feels… looser, somehow. 

The door is closing behind them when Éowyn runs out and shoves a shopping bag full of his favorite veggie stix at him. She’s not looking at anyone, but she seems reluctant to head back into the apartment.

Faramir looks at her questioningly, but accepts the gift. 

“Thanksss! I’ll misss you while I’m gone!” he slurs, leaning in for a hug. She stiffens for a second, but returns his hug awkwardly, patting him on the back before disentangling herself. 

“Um. I’ll miss you too.” And then she flees into her room and locks the door before Lothíriel can start her interrogation. 

\--

A few weeks later, Lothíriel bounds happily into the living room, waving an envelope at Éowyn.

“Guess what?! A letter from Faramir!”

“Doesn’t he write you every couple weeks or something?”

“Yes, but it’s always exciting to get _ real _mail, unlike the usual junk we get!”

Éowyn pretends to not care about these letters, but inside she’s dying to know how he’s doing and if he ever thinks about her.

She's starting to miss him - not that she’ll admit it outright to Lothíriel - she misses his wry sense of humor and the sense of stability she gets from him. 

Lothíriel scans through the letter, reading a few funny snippets aloud. “He says he swears the camels and alpacas are conspiring against him.”

“Camels AND alpacas? How is that even possible? Where on Earth is he?!” Éowyn suddenly realizes that Faramir never actually _ said _ where he was going. All he said was that he was going somewhere very remote and it was for his career. Something about proving himself in hostile environments and surviving by his wits. She isn't sure if he was joking about the last part, but between the letters and the vague comments Faramir previously made about his work life, Éowyn suspects that he either works for an intelligence agency or the military. Or both. 

Lothíriel shrugs, seeming not to really care where in the world her cousin is at the moment. “He says he misses American-style Asian takeout, although he says the local food is quite delicious.”

“So that’s his weakness? Asian takeout? Really?!”

“Ask him to take you to his favorite Thai place when he’s back, then you’ll understand. Oh, he’s also asking if Boromir’s changed his flavor of the week… I'm pretty sure Boromir's got a new one… Flavor of the week is probably the nastiest thing I've ever heard Faramir call Boromir's never ending turnover of girls though…"

“Wait, why can’t _ you _ take me to this Thai place?”

“Because the owners know him and they give him free food that's not listed on the menu. They’d love to meet you.”

Éowyn doesn’t reply, deciding that it’s not worth trying to decipher Lothíriel’s comments. It seems like that family has a tendency to get incredibly vague at times, which drives Éowyn nuts. Instead, she recalls a funny alpaca incident at a farm outside DC before Faramir left for parts unknown. Éowyn herself had been petting an alpaca at the petting zoo. Faramir had also wanted to pet the alpaca, but alpaca had looked him in the eye, then spit. Luckily, the spit didn’t land on him, but he was smart enough to not try to pet the alpaca after that. 

“Ooooh,” Lothíriel goes, breaking Éowyn’s reverie. Éowyn looks up from her phone, waiting for Lothíriel to share more. Instead, Lothíriel puts the letter down on the coffee table, and walks away to her room. 

Éowyn’s positive that Lothíriel’s left the open letter on the table on purpose, but she picks it up and reads it anyway. Éowyn’s surprised to find that Faramir’s neat handwriting is easy to read, and that he managed to write six pages in the span of two weeks or so, on top of whatever critical work he’s doing. Éowyn wonders if he just writes extremely fast, or if he has more downtime than expected.

Most of the letter is responding to Lothíriel’s news about their family and friends, reminders not to spoil his favorite Netflix shows, and some current events happening in the US. Faramir provides keen insight into the various personalities, and Éowyn is amazed by his perceptiveness. 

Towards the end of the letter, she realizes that he’s asking about her. It’s in the second to last paragraph - “_ How’s Éowyn doing? Does she still struggle with what she thinks she wants versus what she really wants but won’t admit to herself? I guess you’re wondering if you’d ever best me in a battle of wills, and this time, you have. Enjoy laughing at my expense.” _

Ohh… as realization hits Éowyn. He’s never asked her to change any aspect of herself; he simply accepts who she is. It occurs to her that of all people, with his family background, he would know perfectly well what it feels like to never be good enough for someone else. And yet, for all of his perceptiveness, he’s rather blind to one particular spot. 

\--

Bits and pieces of Faramir’s most recent letter roll around in Éowyn’s head for a few days. After three days, she decides to find some paper and start writing to him. She can always not actually send the letter if she can’t pry his mailing address out of Lothíriel. 

  


_ Dear Faramir, _

_ Lothíriel mentioned the alpaca and camel conspiracy. Remember that time we all went to the pumpkin farm outside of DC and that one alpaca spit at you? You looked so offended that I almost thought you would stomp your feet and stalk off to nurse your wounded pride. I mean, we all thought it was funny that you were determined to pet an alpaca - you’re not exactly the animal lover type, unless it’s something even your brother and cousins don’t know. _

_ It’s all very normal here back in DC. Political arguments on both sides of the aisle, minor protests, and new luxury condos going up every week. The Renwick is reopening and I hear the new exhibit is going to be amazing. Maybe by the time you get back the lines won’t be too long and we can go check it out. _

_ I hope you’re doing well, wherever you are. _

  


_ Dear _ _ Éowyn, _

_ I was surprised to receive your letter - not so much about _ _ Lothíriel “ _ s _ uspiciously” leaving my letter for you to read though! She's not as sneaky as she thinks she is. Or she’s given up being subtle. _

_ The animals here continue to conspire against me, although one goat has deigned to occasionally follow me around and lets me scratch her head. The local handlers think it’s hilarious that all I want is to pet an alpaca. I’ve given up on camels. _

_ If you come with me to the Renwick, I’ll go horse riding with you. I remember you said you grew up riding, but stopped since going away for college. We could find a riding stable when I’m back. It may surprise you to learn this, but I do know how to ride a horse, even if you think I spend all my free time in libraries, bookstores, and museums. _

  


_ Dear Faramir, _

_ You, on a horse? I’ll have to see it to believe it, city boy. We’re definitely going to find a riding stable so you can prove it to me that you know how to ride a horse. I suppose you know your way around a gym, even if you spend all your free time reading. Walking and reading at the same time. You’re the only person under 40 that I know who still reads books actually printed out on paper. Why don’t you use an e-reader or something? _

_ Dear _ _ Éowyn _ _ , _

_ Do you really think so little of me, like those alpacas? I hope not. Just because I don’t boast about my achievements doesn’t mean I’m not full of surprising talents. I can definitely ride a horse, ask _ _ Lothíriel. We all took riding lessons at the Dol Amroth estates. Am I good at it? That’s for you to find out. _

_ I have a Kindle. I just don’t like using it, because I can’t scribble in the margins. Notetaking on a screen is so much more annoying than just writing. _

  


_ Dear Faramir, _

_ No, I don’t think so little of you! In fact, I’m starting to realize that you might actually purposely hide behind your much more outgoing brother and cousins so that no one suspects your motives. They do always say that the quiet ones are the ones most likely up to no good... Speaking of your family, Amrothos came to visit _ _ Lothíriel, and it’s been a complete whirlwind around here. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that you’re related to those two! _

_ When you’re back, I challenge you to a race on horseback! I am absolutely sure I will leave you in the dust. _

  


_ Dear _ _ Éowyn _ _ , _

_ I’m coming home next month, if _ _ Lothíriel _ _ hasn’t reminded you about it yet. I hope you’ve found a decent riding stable. Loser treats winner to a movie? _

_ Lothíriel and Amrothos together can be absolutely overwhelming if you didn’t grow up with them. They were the little tornados of the family - sometimes we’d have to actually sit on Amrothos to stop him from getting into more trouble. He’s a bit too big for that now. _

_ By the way, did you know Lothíriel has a crush on your brother? _

_ Dear Faramir, _

_ WHAT? _ _ Lothíriel has a crush on my brother? She’s only met him twice! Once at our college graduation and once since that when Eomer came to visit me in DC! I really want you to tell me all about it, but I suspect you won’t tell me in a letter and you’ll be back before your letter gets to me so I guess I’ll have to wait until you’re here and then you can spill! _

_ Also, your challenge is accepted. Prepare to lose. _

  
\--

Faramir wearily steps off the plane, feet on American soil after six months on a different continent. The airport windows are gleaming and the lack of smell - the sterileness of America - disorients him after a year away. His tongue feels clumsy speaking English as he passes through customs. 

  


He collects his luggage, and wheels his cart through the automatic doors, scanning the crowd for his family. He’s pretty sure his brother and cousin will be there, but in his heart, he’s hoping for a glimpse of that long golden hair. It’s a stupid thought, he tells himself. We might be friends, but we’re not *that* sort of friends. Even if she did write me real letters while I was away.

“FARAMIR!” He swings his head to the right, and sees two dark-haired blurs running at him. 

“You’re back! I’m so happy you’re home! Are you all right? Do you need anything to drink? Or eat?” Lothíriel fires a string of questions at him and all he can do is break into a wide grin before both Lothíriel and Boromir engulf him in a group hug.

“I am hungry,” he says, happy to be home and amongst family again. “What about that taqueria in Virginia- it’s open now isn’t it?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that, I can think of at least five off the top of my head that you might be thinking of,” teases Boromir.

Faramir is still searching his brain for the name of the taqueria when he sees Éowyn walking towards them. 

He’s so surprised that she’s actually here to greet him, that he nearly topples into Lothíriel when Eowyn walks up to him, flings her arms around him and kisses him on the lips. 

“Hot damn! Whooo~” whistles Boromir, completely ruining the moment, but Faramir doesn’t care. He's also sure Lothíriel has her phone out to take a photo for posterity or to prove that she's won a bet. 

He’s lost in the sensation of the kiss, her soft lips on his, and he decides to act on instinct for once instead of overthinking. So instead of drawing away, he leans into the kiss, wraps his arms around her, and goes for gently opening her mouth with his tongue. It’s several moments before they break apart to come up for air. Éowyn is flushed, and she tries to wriggle out of his arms, but he’s not letting her. Faramir is gobsmacked in the best way possible, but he’s immensely happy and smug.

“About time,” Lothíriel laughs, delighted that she was eventually proven right. Not to mention that she’s won her fifty bucks off Boromir.

  


\---

"I'm done, Éowyn! I’ve always been here for you, but you’ve never noticed. Or you have, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it! Wasn’t your crush on Aragorn a long time ago? Besides, you know you think yourself not good enough for him - well, anyone compared to Arwen would be a far second best. And maybe I’ll always be second best to you too, but at least I’m honest to myself about it. I love you but if all you do is keep pushing me away and can’t acknowledge that you need me in your life, I’m done! I don’t want to talk or see you again.” 

He whirls around, and stomps out the door of her apartment, door slamming shut. That was the most emotional and agitated that she had ever seen him. His usual careful composure was completely shattered, and she was pretty sure she saw tears in his eyes before he turned around and left. 

The most miserable two weeks of her life follow. She hadn’t realized how much of a presence he’d become in her life. She hadn’t realized that she’d text him about inconsequential things, and that he’d always reply to her. And she hadn’t realized that he needed her as well. At some point after three boxes of tissues and a bottle of wine (Lothíriel had helped with drinking some of the wine but wisely didn’t say much), Éowyn realizes that Faramir had always been there all along for her, and that it was time she admitted and returned her feelings. 

_ If I just breathe / Let it fill the space between / I'll know everything is alright _

\--

It’s Saturday night and Faramir is on his fourth beer and mindlessly scrolling through Netflix, wondering why he said what he said to Éowyn. Anger and resentment, he supposes. He misses her, but he’s a man of his word and he has his pride. Boromir’s gone off to parts unknown again, so thankfully that’s one less person to see him moping and indulging in trashy TV shows. Lothíriel surprisingly hasn’t said anything about his and Éowyn’s argument, although he’s positive she knows something happened.

So it’s jarring when he hears to doorbell ring, and he decides to ignore it. It’s either a delivery person with the wrong address, or it’s Lothíriel come for an interrogation, and he’s really not up to that. The doorbell rings two more times, and he keeps ignoring it. Then comes the pounding on the door.

“Faramir, I know you’re home. Please, can we just talk? I’ve brought your favorite takeout.” That voice surprises him - why is Éowyn here? She’s more proud than he is, so she must be truly desperate to show up on his doorstep asking to talk. Not that talking went well last time. But Thai takeout? That’s pretty hard to say no to, even if he’s still mad at her and himself. Can’t let that tom yum soup go to waste.

“Éowyn.” He opens the door and squints down at her, the porch door light briefly blinding him. She raises two paper bags at him and the aromas of delicious food waft up, reminding him that he hasn’t really eaten in a week and four beers in one day hasn’t exactly left him full. 

She looks up at him, almost tenderly. She starts to move as if she wants to touch him, but draws back at the last moment, realizing that she’s still standing on the threshold and her hands are full. 

“You look terrible and you smell of awful beer,” she states, giving nothing away in her flat tone. He lets her in, and rubs at his chin. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and a slightly villainous beard is starting to develop. 

“I’ve had four beers today, the only reason I’m letting you in right now is because you’re bribing me with food. And I’m pretty hungry.”

She sets the two paper bags on the living room table and starts unpacking, while he rummages around for cutlery and napkins. He’s moving sluggishly, and he gives up on his quest to find a spoon. Instead, he decides that if she’s here, he might as well shower and shave as to at least not smell like beer. 

It’s fifteen minutes later that he comes back into the living room and sees that she’s spread out a veritable feast of spring rolls, tom yum soup, pad thai, drunken noodles, basil fried rice, and… wait, is that mango sticky rice in the last container? She looks up at him and offers a tentative smile. 

“You look a lot better. Let’s eat?” They spend a few moments in silence, filling their plates. 

Then she puts her plate down, scooches close to him on the couch, and leans her head against his shoulder. He tenses. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize earlier how you felt about me and that I didn’t realize that you meant the world to me too. I always wanted something else, something more from life - well, everyone knew that I had a crush on Aragorn and I didn’t want to let go of that dream. Even if I knew that I would never be enough for him, it was just that I was so afraid of what could be that I didn’t let myself admit that you were everything I needed, and had always been there for me. It took you threatening to leave for me to realize that I can’t live a life without you. I am really sorry, and I’m pretty sure Thai takeout isn’t going to make up for it.” Her voice slightly cracks on the last part, but he hears a slight hint of humor in it. 

“It’s a start,” he replies gravely, picking up a spring roll, and pointedly not looking at her. He’s not really sure where this is going, and he’s not getting his hopes up quite yet. “What do you want, Éowyn? I’ve already spilled my heart out to you, if you’re here to just be friends again, I’m not sure I want it. I want someone who sees me for me, not a placeholder to you for someone else.”

He feels her tremble for a moment, knowing that his words cut. Then she moves away from him, takes a steadying breath, and reaches out to make sure she’s facing him.

“No, I want us. Us together.”

“I’m not going to be a consolation prize.”

“And you’re not - it’s just… I’m sorry! You see me for who I am, and you make me a better person. You don’t ask me to be someone else, you don’t ask me to change parts of myself, you _ accept _ me for who I am. You’re the one who’s there to talk to me when I’m away on work travel, you’re the one that makes me laugh even when you’re being completely serious, you’re the one that’s shown me around the city and all its hidden gems, you’re the one that was there for me when I was unhappy - these last couple years of knowing you have been the happiest ones of my life. I love you too.”

“If you’re willing to make this relationship work, you already know my answer. It has never changed since the day I met you.”

\--

It’s a beautiful crisp early autumn day in New England, and the leaves are just starting to change color. Éowyn and Faramir are finally getting married, after a year of planning. 

Lothíriel's pretty sure they would have preferred to elope, but the couple knows that they have family obligations to meet, which includes inviting all the prominent families from two countries. Despite all the pomp and circumstance, Lothíriel can see that the couple are genuinely excited to finally join in matrimony. Éowyn is absolutely radiant in her wedding dress and looks like a fairytale come true. 

"Today, I join these two in…"

\---

After the ceremony, the guests made their way indoors towards the reception hall.

"And imagine, if I didn't make him go out clubbing with me that one fateful night…"

"No, I'm pretty sure they still would have met at some point, since she was my roommate!" 

"Can I have those fifty bucks back?"

"Pffft no!"

**Author's Note:**

> So after nearly a decade away from writing any sort of fanfiction... I ended up writing this ~6000 word piece when I used to have so much trouble even writing 1000 words. The one song line quoted in here is from Michelle Branch's "Breathe," that's also where the title comes from. It came up on the radio one day and basically inspired the majority of this fic, plus some real life events. I don't think I captured their personalities quite correctly, but it was cathartic to write!
> 
> Thank you for reading this far - I know this piece could use more showing than telling, and I'm sadly out of practice.


End file.
